10 Things That Have Kept Dean From A Hunt
by Tochi and Flap Jack
Summary: Yeah, the title said it all. Challenge I made up for myself. Kinda cute, I like it anyway.
1. Family

"Come on Dad, lemme come with you!" Begged the 15 year old.

"No Dean, I've told you, you'd only be a threat to this mission, I can't afford you or Sam to come along with me."

"But Dad," Dean protested, "I won't be a threat, I'll help!"

"Dean, I said no, and I mean it." John said sharply.

Dean stared at his father for a moment before adverting his gaze to the wall, "Yes, sir." He mumbled unhappily.

"That's better, now I need you to stay home and help Sammy with his homework, watch him, and do your own." John started, pausing and waiting for Dean to look at him a minute.

Sammy, who had been sitting on the couch, watching the two in a slightly fearful silence now put his three cents in, "I don't need to be watched!"

"Sam, you're eleven years old, you're not old enough for me to trust you on your own." John sighed, loosing his patience with his boys.

"But you let Dean stay by himself when he was eleven… and he had to watch me then too!" The young boy complained.

"Dean is more responsible than you are, and more mature for that matter."

Sammy pouted now, knowing better than to push his luck any farther unless he wanted to be grounded again. The last time he'd been stuck in his and Dean's room for a solid week, only allowed to leave for the bathroom, meals, and school. He'd been ten then, and now he only had more energy somehow, and Dean would be the first to agree to that. When he was ten, Dean had had plenty of time to look things up for his father, maybe even read a book about werewolves or poltergeists, but now, his father did all of that while Dean followed Sam around, keeping him away from the knives, box cutters, and scissors.

For some reason, the kid was more inclined to the blades, liking to cut things with then when he could sneak one away. His fun, of course, never lasted for long. Once Dean or John noticed the hole in the couch, or scratches on the wall, or his torn up sheets, they knew he had a knife or another sharp object, and then came the fun of trying to get it away from the little bugger. He was a crafty little one, waiting until he was alone to take out his 'toy' and always hiding it carefully once he was done. Last time he'd gotten a hold of one, he'd somehow managed to keep it a secret for three weeks. He also somehow managed to hide it on top of the broken ceiling fan's blade.

"Ok Dean, keep your brother away from any sharp objects, don't play with the matches, no going over to your girlfriends house, and I don't want her over here either, your brother is still a kid, and you really don't want to be a teen parent." John said slowly as he laid down the rules of his absence.

Dean stared at his father in disbelief, he SOOO did not just say that! Ok, Dean admitted, he wasn't a virgin in some ways, he'd already had two kinds of sex, none yet involving penetration yet… except for one girls mouth, and he remembered her name too! … Sharon? Shelly?… NO! It was Shannon! … or was it Morgan?

"Ok, I'll be back in a week, and if this house is destroyed, you Dean, are in a lot of trouble, you hear me?"

"Yes sir." Dean said obediently.

"Sam, no touching the knives, box cutter, scissors, or Dean's pocket knife, that's his, and he's not even supposed to use it unless we're on a hunt." John told his youngest son, turning and staring straight into his eyes, "Understand?"

"Dean has a pocket knife!" Sam asked excitedly.

Dean and John exchanged glances then gave a sigh, "Sam, don't touch it, it's mine, I don't go messing with your things."

"You steal my knives all the time!" Sammy pouted.

"No, Sam, you steal them, I just take them back." Dean corrected.

"Well you go messing through my things to find them!"

"That's because you refuse to hand them over peacefully." Dean sighed.

"Well you're the one that wants them back!" Sam was getting desperate now.

"Sam, they're not yours, you shouldn't have them, I may have let you keep them longer if you didn't destroy the furniture with them."

Sam pouted fidgeting again, moving his leg into an obviously uncomfortable position.

Dean stared at his brother a second before walking over to him, dropping down on his knees and pushing his protesting brother's leg away to find a new place in which the poor innocent couch had been abused.

"Ok Sammy, where's the knife this time?" Dean asked.

"I'm not telling." Sam said in a sing song voice.

"Sam, tell your brother where it is." John said firmly.

"It's ok dad, you should probably go, don't want it to nab someone else." Dean sighed, standing now.

"Alright, but you'd better get that knife away from him." John said before shouldering his bags. "I'll be back in a week, you two be good, and don't skip school." He told them before exiting.

Dean waited a minute or two until his father was gone. "Sammy. Knife. Now."

Sam stuck out his tongue in a childish gesture.

The older of the two rolled his eyes, scooping his brother up and holding him on his hip, carrying him to his room before shutting the door and setting him on the floor.

"Give me the knife."

"No!" He said defiantly, feeling cocky that this knife wasn't going to get stolen… right up until Dean tackled him, pinning him to the floor.

"Yes." He grit out.

"NO!"

Dean frowned, "I don't want to do this Sammy, but you're not giving me another choice." Dean told him before flipping his brother onto his tummy and grabbing his arm, twisting it up until it almost touched his neck.

Sammy screamed in protest, squirming beneath his brother and kicking out, trying to hit him.

"Just tell me where it is, Sam!" Dean said lowly, really he hated having to do this to his baby brother, but sometimes it was the only way to get the information he needed. Usually carrying him to their room and asking nicely worked, Sammy usually gave up the information when he was sure their father wouldn't find out his new hiding spot.

"Ok, ok!" He cried out, Dean instantly released him.

Sam crawled out from under him, holding his hurting shoulder gently and sniffing a few times before going over to Dean's closet. He pushed through his assortment of junk before coming up with the butcher's knife and reluctantly handing it to his brother.

Dean took the knife and put it back in the drawer before returning to his room, his brother still sniffing and fighting tears. Dean knew he was milking it, he always did, that was probably why he stole the knives all the time, he wanted attention.

John would have told him to take it like a man and scolded him for acting so childishly, Dean on the other hand, had a soft spot for his brother. He always swore to himself that the next time Sam started crying like this, he would just tell him to get over it, tough love, but every time, he found himself comforting his brother.

He sighed, scooping him up again and carrying him back to the living room, short trip, but he knew Sam loved to be toted around, he never really got a lot of it when John was around, he'd always snap at Dean to put his brother down, and almost always refuse to give him a ride, but when he wasn't home, he would get his way.

He sat down on the couch, Sam's leg still behind him, and the other one over his lap before he squirmed around, crawling into his brother's lap and snuggling against him. Dean knew why his brother did this, or at least he had a good idea. Things weren't easy for Dean going eleven years without his mother, but Sam didn't even know her, and when he was still even smaller, 5 or 6, John would hold him like this whenever he would get upset about never knowing her, and never having a mommy. Dean somehow had taken the mommy role on for the most part, nursing his brother's wounds or staying with him when he had to stay home from school sick. Ok it also got him out of school, but still, his baby brother was sick!

Sammy eventually got over his 'that hurt!' fit and fell asleep against Dean. This was defiantly one of the only things that kept Dean from hunting, his family.

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A/n: Tochi: AWE! This is like… the cutest thing I've ever written, ever!

Flap Jack: oh wow, this one was like… the funniest one to watch her write. That dreamy starry eyed look on her face, oh what I would give to see her reaction if she ever _saw_ this!

Tochi: Leave me alone Flap Jack! –pout-

Flap Jack: -rolls eyes- This one's multi-chaptered, so review, set it on alert and stand back and get your puke buckets ready, 'cause knowing her, this was really tame! … AND JOIN MY EVIL ARMY!


	2. Illness

Disclaimer: Flap Jack: This goes for last chapter 'cause Tochi didn't put one, now –holds up fish she got off of eBay- mine –holds up Supernatural- Some really lucky person's

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"I'm fine Dad, really." Hacked out a 16 year old Dean.

"Dean, you're sick, you can't come with me."

"Why no- nah ACHOO!"

"That's why."

"But you're letting Sam go with you!"

"Sam's not sneezing, coughing, or throwing up every three seconds either." John said firmly, placing his hand on the 12 year old's shoulder.

Sam beamed proudly, even though not being sick isn't really anything to be proud of. Maybe it was because he could go on a hunt and Dean couldn't. Maybe he was just being an obnoxious 12-year-old, who knows?

"Just stay in bed, don't puke on the floor and drink a lot of water, ok Dean?"

John's answer was another coughing fit from his oldest son, his face reddening as he coughed on and on and on.

After Dean's regained control of his lungs, he muttered something or other, who really knows? He was out of it.

Dean only got really, really sick once a year. Sure he'd get coughs or sneezing fits along with an occasional cold, but those were just little dinky things that made him uncomfortable at best. No he only got this sick once a year, almost like a personal tradition for himself.

It was the middle of March, and Dean got the flu or… something to that effect. He was sick, bottom line.

"Ok son, did you hear me?"

Dean nodded, shivering where he sat in bed. Ever since he was about 10 or so, he'd taken to sleeping in his underwear… just his underwear. He found that if it was summer and they either had no AC or it wasn't working, that he could be kept cooler in his underwear rather than wear Pj's to bed. At first it'd creeped Sam out a bit, but he eventually got used to it, and during the summer he even joined Dean in the sleeping in the underwear.

John never understood why he never at least wore a beater to bed during the cooler months to at least keep his chest warm. He'd asked Dean about this once, and his reply was that Dean'd taken too much to not having a shirt on when he slept that he felt really confined if he did.

"Dean, just put on a shirt at least, you'll get better faster."

"Why does that matter? I hate school anyway, and you won't be going on another hunt for a while after this."

"Dean, you could get worse, just put on a shirt… or lay down and pull the blankets up. You could catch pneumonia if you don't keep your chest warm."

"Doubt it dad, it's not that cold in he he- ACHOO!"

"Dean, keep yourself warm, or you won't go on the next hunt either." John said sternly, trying a different approach now.

"Fine, fine." He grumbled, sliding down into the blanket and pulling it up to his shoulders.

"Sorry, son, but I just can't have you with me on this mission, you're too sick." John said gently, moving over to his son's bed side and resting his hand on Dean's hot forehead.

"Wasn't sick enough to stay home yesterday." Dean mumbled with a small pout.

"You went to the school nurse, and your temperature wasn't over a hundred, they only send you home if it's over a hundred, not sure why, but that's how it works."

"They should make it work better." Dean decided, crossing his arms.

John chuckled gently before taking his hand away, finding it really uncomfortable to have it on his son's forehead.

"If you're not any better when Sam and I get back tomorrow, we'll take you to the hospital, alright?"

"Ok, I'm fine." Dean said, instantly popping up.

"No you're not Dean, now this could be serious, so just lay back down and get some rest alright?"

"Fine… as long as I get the kill next hunt."

"Deal, Sammy, say bye to Dean."

Sammy scurried over to his brother, slinging his arms around his neck and holding him as tight as his twelve year old arms could.

Dean grunted upon impact of the little brother torpedo fired at him then put one arm on Sam's back, waiting to be released and start breathing again.

"You better not die while we're gone, or I'll be really mad at you." Sam said threatingly as he gave his brother a quick kiss on the cheek.

Lovable little thing, threatening him if he died, then kissing him and running off. Reminded Dean of how he'd been last Tuesday.

Dean was outside his high school, waiting for Sammy. Sam's elementary school was two blocks from the high school, which was then nine blocks from where they lived. Their dad said it was good exercise to walk, but Dean somehow always ended up carrying Sam's books, along with Sammy on his back.

_That never really bothered him though, he got a lot stronger from having his brother slung over his back, and the chicks loved that._

_So anyway, Dean was outside, leaning against the bike rack, talking to …Stacy? No, no! It was Ashley! They were talking about… something or other, Dean was just doing more responding than questioning. _

_Then Sammy came bounding up. He attached his little twelve year old body onto Dean's, his face buried in Dean's upper stomach, lower chest, somewhere around there. Yeah, growth spurts, tall kid._

_He was crying, about what Dean wasn't sure what about, he couldn't understand what he was saying. He pried Sam off of him and looked down at the twelve year old, "What's wrong Sammy?" He asked gently._

_After a rather long story and a calmed Sammy, Dean found himself with Sam's small backpack slung over his shoulder, his kid brother attached to his back. Ashley had _loved_ the way he handled his baby brother, and heh, let's just say Dean and Ashley had a little fun later on._

Dean still wasn't sure what Sam had been so upset about, he just had to keep repeating 'it's alright, it's alright' and petting his hair to calm him.

"We'll be back tomorrow Dean." Came John's voice, interrupting Dean's thinking. "Just take care of yourself, and if you're not any better by the time we get back, Sammy and I'll take you to the hospital."

Dean sighed and nodded, not really keen on the idea, but he had disobeyed his father enough already… or talked back enough, either way! There was only so much his father would take as Dean not being himself because it was his yearly 'really freakin sick'ness

Dean waited until he heard the hum of the Impala's engine before he rolled onto his side, his hand slipping up under his pillow and taking a hold on the knife's hilt and holding it tightly as he slowly allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

One of the other things that kept him home, his yearly 'really freakin sick'ness.

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Tochi: I'm sorry I haven't updated in… forever… I actually had a life! –uses over exaggerated hand motions to get point across- But this was written when I had no life… GO WRITER THAT DOESN'T HAVE A LIFE AGAIN!

Flap Jack: -whacks Tochi with previously mentioned fish-

Tochi: guh? –faints-

Flap Jack: Having no life, is no reason to have a party nimrod! Anyway, chapter two of many, so read, review, throw it on alert, AND JOIN MY EVIL ARMY!


	3. Sammy

A/n: Tochi: uhh… yeah… sorry this took so long, school's been making me it's bitch --; Anyway, if anyone is even still reading this, it's only the third chapter, and I have 7 more to go, and- including this one- I only have 3 more ideas –sigh- Why didn't I make it 5?

Flap Jack: -laughs at Tochi's misery-

Tochi: -pout- Oh, and just a heads up, these aren't in any chronological order, just coming as I think of them ;

Flap Jack: -rolls eyes- moron

Disclaimer: Flap Jack: Is the show more based on before they started hunting? Then no, Tochi hasn't gotten her filthy mortal hands on it yet.

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"Sammy I hate you." Hissed the fourteen year old, his arms crossed as he sat on the couch, a far from pleased look on his face.

"Hey, sorry that stupid poltergeist threw a _bowling ball_ at me and broke my stupid leg!" Sam shot back, an equally pissed look on his face.

"I don't get why I have to stay back with him Dad, he's perfectly fine on his own, he's 10!" Dean protested.

"Dean you know as well as I do that he still isn't steady on those things, he fell twice while we were still at the hospital." John told him, his bags already slung over his shoulder, shot gun in his hand, and the door knob in the other, he'd been so close escaping his son's complaining.

Dean scowled, glaring at his brother again, "You stupid klutz."

John just shook his head, "I shouldn't be gone more than two more days." He said before quickly slipping out the door.

"Still don't get why I have to stay back, it's your leg."

Sam, who had given up right after their father left on being defensive and pretending he wasn't in a huge amount of pain after the whatever it was they gave at the hospital had worn off, simply hung his head, squirming and pulling his unbroken leg up close to his body, the other one had been forcibly stretched out by his father and rested on the coffee table, only a couple feet in front of the armchair.

Dean looked over at his brother after getting no snappy comeback and frowned. "Oh don't start that whiny crap up again!" He half growled.

Sam let his eyes fall closed as he sighed deeply. "Look Dean." Sam started, suddenly acting far more mature for his age, "I'm sorry that I got hurt, I'm sorry that you had to stay back, and I'm sorry I'm acting like this, but I can't really help it, my leg is _killing_ me, it itches like crazy, and my big brother can't do anything other than sit on the couch and complain about not being able to get what he wants and that really isn't helping the situation."

Sammy let himself slip back into memory mode, trying to figure out just when Dean had gotten so pissed.

"Sam, get down!" John had yelled, gun aimed at his youngest son, poltergeist just behind him.

_Sam had had his back turned to his father, and turned his head to look at him, by the time he'd turned his head back around and even started to duck, it had picked up a bowling ball and thrown it at him._

_Sam got down after that, but only because the ball had first connected with his shin, then fallen down on his foot. The youngest Winchester had just laid on his side, the latest event having left everyone- including the poltergeist- stunned and staring at his leg. It must have been a good solid minute before the pain hit like a ton of bricks and he'd instantly started crying._

_His crying seemed to hit the play button, and everyone sprang into action, "Dean, get Sam outside, now, go!" Their father had yelled, the poltergeist had picked up another ball, this one aimed for John, but he'd dodged it a bit too easily._

_Sam had felt his brother behind him, whispering something to him as he rolled him onto his back carefully then lifted him, half running out of there, doing his best not to made Sam's leg hurt anymore and get him out of there as fast as he could._

_Dean had sat Sam on the hood of the Impala, seeing as the car it's self was locked, and held his shoulders to keep his brother from tipping off._

_Sam guessed they'd stayed there for about ten maybe fifteen minutes on their own before John had come running out, shot gun still in his hand as he slammed the door behind himself and ran to the car._

_He'd opened the driver's door then reached into the back, pulling up that lock and turned into his sons, "Dean, get Sammy into the backseat, and stay back there with him." John had instructed, sliding into the driver's seat and starting the ignition. _

_Dean carefully pulled Sam off the hood of the car, pulling his brother onto his hip and opening the back door, turning so Sam was closer to the car before carefully sliding him in, his butt on the seat before he crawled into the car, staying in the floor space and pulled his brother back so his butt was in the middle of the seat, his legs safely out of the way, then pulled the door shut._

_Sam had still been crying waterfalls and his brother sat on the seat behind him, facing his brother. He'd managed to squirm around and get one of his legs pressed against the back of the seat, the other off the seat before he pulled his brother back into himself, leaning himself against the door, and letting Sam lean against him, his little brother fit snuggly between his legs._

_The youngest had continued crying, but now his head was turned to the side, the side of his face pressed against his brother's chest._

"_It's alright Sammy, you'll be fine, you're going to be ok, it's alright, shh, shh." Dean had whispered, his hand resting on the side of Sam's face, holding it against his chest, the other one rested on his thigh until Sam had grabbed it, holding it tight and letting out a low whimper._

_Dean had continued trying to console his brother the entire ride which must have been at least half an hour seeing as they were in the middle of Nowhere Ohio._

_Once they did get there, Dean had been squirming a lot until he managed to get out of the car and pull Sam out with him. From there it had been a short trip inside, Dean setting Sam into a wheel chair and then following after Amy the cute young nurse that made Sammy squirm, small sobs and sniffs still falling out of him. He hadn't been trying to act like it didn't hurt, but he'd been crying to long and hard that he didn't have any tears left to cry, and his throat was hurting from all his sobbing._

_Dean had lifted him up onto the small bed and tried to get him to lay down, but Sam just shook his head, a tiny whimper sliding away from him._

_Finally Dean figured out what Sam wanted, and after some squirming, they'd managed to get into the same position as they'd been in inside the Impala._

_John, who had been shaking the entire time, had finally left saying he needed to get coffee to calm himself down and left the room, holding his head in his hands._

"_Dean?" Sam asked in a tiny voice._

"_Hmm? What is it Sammy?"_

"_Is daddy mad at me?"_

_Dean laughed a bit, shaking his head, "No Sammy, if anything he's mad at himself and me for letting you get hurt._

_Sam gave a tiny nod, his hand shakily finding his brothers and holding it tight and sniffing a bit more._

_Before John had come back, the doctor had come in, and then _tried_ to get Sam pried out of Dean's grasp, but that didn't work so well._

_The doctor had finally given up on trying to pry him away and just started asking questions._

"_Are you related to… Sam?" He asked, looking over his clipboard once he had aborted his pry Sam off of Dean task._

"_Yeah, I'm his brother." _

_The doctor nodded, pulling up that little stool thing that they always seem to have handy and looked over him._

"_And Sam has a broken leg?"_

"_Yeah, right one." Dean muttered, nodding to the right and down to get his point across._

_The doctor looked at Sam's jeans then back up to Dean, "I'm sorry, but I can't exactly help if I can't see his leg."_

_Dean took the hint and squirmed behind Sam, trying to get away so he could help his brother get his pants off. Sam hadn't liked that idea and instead changed his grip to hold Dean's t-shirt in his grasp, whimpering again and shaking his head._

"_We could always cut them off." The doctor suggested._

"_He kind of needs pants when he gets out of here." Dean snapped._

_The doctor rose an eyebrow at Dean and stared for a minute, "We could cut the pant leg off at the thigh." He tried._

_Dean stared a minute before nodding, letting the apparently scissor happy doctor go off to get the shiny tool while he talked lowly to Sam, trying to get him to clam down again._

_It hadn't taken long and the doctor was back, carefully cutting off the denim, just as he placed it on the bed next to the two, John came in, coffee in hand._

_The two older men shared a glance before both looked at Sam as the doctor placed his hands on both sides of his leg, "Exactly how did he break it?"_

"_Sam and I were goofing around with Dad's bowling ball bag- I was spinning around with it, and it slipped out of my hands and hit Sammy's leg." Dean lied, petting his brother's hair._

_The doctor nodded, and the rest of the hospital visit was a whir to Sam, he remembered being put back in the wheel chair, being taken to an x-ray room, waiting, Dean having to hold him down as they set it, then sitting in his brother's lap as the cast was put on. Then doing his best to crutch his way back to the car- falling twice._

_After they got him loaded in the car again, and then back to their apartment in Bucyrus, John had instructed him to sit in the armchair. After that he'd picked up his son's leg and was then greeted with a yelp and a whack to the head with Sam's crutch. They repeated this process three or four more times until John managed to get Sam's let onto the coffee table._

"_Dean, I want you to stay back with Sammy, I can finish this one on my own."_

Yeah, that was when Dean had gotten pissed because he couldn't go back with his dad.

Dean stared at him while he walked down memory lane, an inquisitive look on his face.

Finally he stood up, sitting on the arm rest and resting his hand on his brother's shoulder, "Hey Sam, sorry I was being so crabby, I just really wanted to go with dad."

Sammy only nodded, then rested his chin on his knee.

Dean rolled his eyes before pressing a light kiss to the top of Sam's head, "ok I'll get you something to eat, and there's the remote your majesty." Dean said sarcastically as he stood, handing Sam the remote and heading off toward the kitchen.

Yet another thing that had kept Dean from hunting- Sam's leg.

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Tochi: This one was more Sammy centric, but still, Dean had to stay behind!

Flap Jack: -rolls eyes- looser anyway, she's going to be updating more frequently now since she's on spring break and has no life, so review, throw it on alert and stand back! AND JOIN MY EVIL ARMY!


	4. Leg

"Dean, look out!" John yelled, raising his gun and shooting just as Dean ducked.

The werewolf growled as the bullet whizzed by, missing his head by just centimeters.

Dean scrambled to his feet and put some ground between him and the wolf. Dean instantly looked to see where Sammy was, giving a small nod to himself when he saw his brother not too far from their father.

This was Sam's first time on a werewolf hunt. He was 12 by then, but their father had been wary of taking Sam along. He'd always said something about Sam being to hesitant to fire, and it could get him killed or bitten- which would have been as good as killed, except a bit more devastating for everyone. One it would be bad because, Sammy just got hurt, two, he was going to turn into a werewolf next full moon, and three, if Sammy was a werewolf, then they'd have to kill him, and that's no good.

Dean's head swiveled as he heard a low growl to his right, he just barely backpedaled in time to avoid it's slashing claws.

'_Just why the hell is it going after me and not Dad or Sammy?' _Dean thought, raising his gun and aiming at the wolf.

He fired, but the wolf ducked then charged at him, claw swiping up and knocking the gun from Dean's hand.

It was only when it tacked Dean, pinning him to the ground that he guessed it was going after him because he'd eaten bacon just before the hunt and hadn't exactly had time to brush his teeth.

He had to guess this wolf weighed at least 200 lbs, but he wasn't too sure. He heard another shot fire, and the wolf jumped, Dean still in his grasp, but Dean's weight had been enough to throw it off and it landed weird, most if not all of it's weight landing on Dean's leg, and it snapped like it was nothing more than a twig.

Dean screamed at the sudden rush of pain all centered in his shin, causing the werewolf to yelp and jump. It's ears laying back.

John shot at it again, but it ducked once more and scampered off, snarling, eventually disappearing in the trees.

John was instantly by Dean's side, his gun dropped by Dean's foot, the man himself kneeling next to the snapped limb.

His eyebrows shot up and his stomach did a back flip at what he saw. The bone was defiantly snapped and stuck through flesh and denim.

"Dean, I think your leg's broken." Came Sam's slow statement, in the light of the full moon, his skin had taken on a sickly green shade.

"Sam, c'mon, help me get your brother out of here." John instructed, pushing Dean into a sitting position then wrapping one of his son's arms around his neck. Sam took the other arm, the one away from the broken limb, slinging it around his neck as well. John put his arm at Dean's waist then looked over at the youngest boy.

"Alright Sam, Dean, We'll all lift on three ok?" John asked, looking from the still slightly green face to the one twisted in certain pain.

"Right." Sam said, pulling Dean's arm a little further onto his shoulders.

Dean only gave a small nod, his hands tightening to fists.

"Ok, one… two… three." And with a quick heave and another small cry from Dean they had him on his… foot. The other was defiantly useless as it hung limply from Dean's hip.

"Sam, go unlock the Impala." John instructed, handing his youngest son the keys and pulling more of Dean's weight closer to him.

After a while of struggling and a few sharp hisses from Dean, they'd managed to get him into the back seat, Sam sitting up front so Dean had room to keep his leg stretched out on the seat.

John was careful not to hit any bumps on the ride, and then had a hell of a time getting Dean out of the car and into a wheel chair.

By the time they'd actually gotten him to the exam room and all the forms filled out, Dean had been feeling well enough to be hit on by Brandy, a nurse looking to be in her mid twenties with what Dean later described as, 'a nice rack and a hot ass'.

The doctor as Dean's sudden good luck came into play, was equally cute, and even possibly as young, though she defiantly had a year or two on Brandy. Now there were five occupants in the room including, Brandy, Sam, John, Dean, and Jackie, the doctor.

"Well, your leg's defiantly broken, poor thing." Jackie said sweetly as she looked up at Dean then back to the bone that stuck through his pants.

"Alright, Brandy, I'm going to need you to go get morphine for me, no way I can do anything for him with his leg like this and nothing to get rid of the pain."

Sam just rolled his eyes and shook his head at the goofy grin on Dean's face. He knew exactly what was going through his brother's head: sexsexsexsex. He knew this because first that's all Dean usually thought about anyway, and because he was wearing that grin that easily gave away his motives.

Some morphine and a few more subtle flirts later, both Jackie and Brandy were helping Dean try to stand and remove his pants.

Sam looked over at his father to see the man smiling himself. He too knew what Dean was thinking, and probably trying not to think about because of the soon to be certain loss of his pants.

After a minute of fighting, and Dean fighting off a smile as Brandy's face got a lot closer to his groin than it needed to be, they were helping Dean sit back down on the bed, his pants discarded on the chair.

Jackie frowned as she looked at his leg then back up to Dean. "Ok, we're defiantly going to need to get an x-ray of that so we'll know how to set it, alright honey?" She asked in the same sweet tone.

"Whatever you need to do." Dean said with a small shrug.

"Alright, Brandy, bring the wheelchair a little closer for him, thank you." Jackie said with a flash of brilliant white teeth.

Brandy took one side and Jackie took the other, both putting one of Dean's arms around their shoulders, and their arms going to Dean's waist before helping him to the wheelchair, laying a blanket over his lap before wheeling him out the room and down the hall.

After that Brandy held Dean's arms down while Jackie set the leg, but Dean could honestly say it didn't really hurt, he was doped up on morphine, however, so he doubted even a little girl would have given any sign of pain.

Once it was set, there was a bit more flirting, the girls helping Dean get his pants back on, Brandy cutting his pants off just above his knee, and then the cast being put on. Once the whole ordeal was over with, both girls signed his cast and saw Dean to the door before leaving him in the hands of his father and his brother.

"Dean?"

"Yes sir?" Dean asked, his head swiveling toward his father.

"You do know this means you won't be able to finish the hunt don't you?"

Dean sighed unhappily and nodded slowly. He knew he wouldn't be able to finish in his condition, but he was kinda hoping his father wouldn't notice the shell around his leg or the two wooden appendages shoved under his arms.

Sam and John once again loaded Dean into the car, Dean once again in the back seat, leaning against one door, his crutches propped up against his shoulder as he stared out the back window.

Another thing that kept Dean from finishing a hunt- his leg. But he couldn't really say he was too upset about this one after all, two hot young women were hitting on him the entire time, even though he was almost 10 years younger than them.

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Tochi: -giggles- Dean's such a lucky little bastard in this.

Flap Jack: Little over lucky if you ask me ; -holds up 'Tochi doesn't know what she's doing' sign-

Tochi: -pout- I just thought he could get a bit of luck every once and a while.

Flap Jack: Whatever, you read it, there's more chapters to come, Tochi's stuck on her other fic and desperately needs help, put this on alert, go read her other story and give her some help, and don't forget to review. And most importantly: JOIN MY EVIL ARMY!


	5. That Time He Got Grounded

A/n: Tochi: Sorry this took forever, first John was being an asshat and grounded me for _nothing_ then I couldn't get into my account to update so… yeah… please don't stop reading and loving me –best misunderstood writer plead look thing-

Flap Jack: Drama Queen

Disclaimer: Flap Jack: Not mine, not hers, not this fishes and defiantly not yours either P

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Dean rolled his eyes as his more than likely on-a-sugar-high brother roamed around the living room, looking for something to amuse himself with.

"Deeeaan, I'm booored!" The nine year old whined, climbing up onto the couch next to his older brother.

"Then… read or something, I dunno." Dean sighed, not looking away from the gihugic book in his lap, reading through the old pages trying to find something to help them on their current case.

"But there's nothing to read here!" Sam protested, "Well, other than all of the paranormal books, but I've read them all already!"

"Well read them again." Came Dean's 'I-really-am-trying-to-stay-clam' reply.

Sam sighed over dramatically and spun around on his heel going into their room. Dean barely glanced up after him

Imagine the look on Dean's face when Sammy came back out with one of his _Playboy_ magazines in his hand, a curious look on his young face.

Now imagine the look on John's when he walked in from the library, noticed the look on Dean's face, then what Sam had in his hand.

"Sam, where did you get that?" John asked slowly.

"I found it under Dean's bed, daddy, what's that?" He asked pointing to one of the pages.

John didn't look or answer his son's question and Dean snatched the magazine away from him quickly, putting it behind his back, "You don't need to know Sammy, you're too young." Dean half hissed.

"But I wanna know!" Sam whined.

John looked up from Sam's face to Dean's flushed one then back again.

John had just recently recovered from having that talk with his oldest, and that was three years ago.

"Dean, after I finish with Sam, we're going to have a different talk." John said sternly.

"Yeah… I'm going to our room now…" Dean said slowly, probably so he could have some quality time with the recently uncovered magazine.

"Dean, leave the door open!" John called after him.

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After John had finished his talk with Sam, Sam was blushing quite a bit, John was annoyed with Dean for forcing him to do this, and Dean wasn't a happy camper. The whole point of going to his room was to enjoy his 'readables'

"Sam, go get your brother." John instructed, leaning back against the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table.

Sammy nodded scampering off to their bed room and pulling Dean out.

"Ok, now… go do something else, we need to have a talk."

Sam looked between the two then tipped his head to one side, "Dad, why didn't you give him the talk before me?" Sam questioned, waiting a minute for an answer before just shrugging and going back to their room.

"Sam, you leave the door open too!" John called.

Once Sam left the door part way open John twisted his body a bit to look at his oldest son.

"Dean, let's start things off with a question."

"Uh… ok.." Dean mumbled, glancing around the room quickly.

"Have you had sex yet?"

Dean's face flushed as he started at his father, and the look on his face told him that he was being serious

"No." He squeaked, his voice reverting back to how it had been before it had changed

John nodded not looking away from him, "Good. Now let's discuss your hiding spot for your magazines." He said in the same calm voice.

"What about it?"

"It doesn't work." John pointed out the obvious crossing his ankles over on the table.

"Yeah I noticed." Dean sighed.

"Do you know what that could have done to you if you were the magazines and Sam was say… a werewolf?"

"I'd be dead?" Dean said slowly, the analogy a little… odd.

"Yes you would." John stated, not caring about the weirdness of what he'd just said, "And I ended having to give Sammy that talk a year earlier than I'd given it to you, I still hadn't recovered from when I gave it to you."

"So that mean's I'm in trouble?"

"Yes, Dean, it does. It means that you are hereby grounded for not being able to hide and forcing me to do that before I was ready for it."

Dean pouted, looking down at the carpet."

Yet another thing that has kept him from a hunt, the time he got grounded for porn.

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A/n: Tochi: sorry this is so short, but I got stuck and couldn't stretch it out as much as I normally would have.

Flap Jack: Yeah, she's lost her mind. Read, review, alert, and join the Flap Jackian army.


	6. John snuck away

Tochi: Another quick update from the chick with no life!

Flap Jack: That's a bad thing you moron –whacks-

Tochi: Oww!

Disclaimer: Linc: Not ours…. Or is it? –shifty look- Don't sue, 'cause we're poor and we don't want to loose our box house.

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Some times John thought Dean had some sort of sense as to when John was going on a hunt.

Dean was 16 years old, and John had yet to manage to escape without Dean already waiting in the car or Dean following right behind him

He swore, every time he thought he got away from his son to go on a solo hunt, he'd look at the Impala and find Dean already sitting inside waiting for him.

'Perhaps he can teleport or something.' John thought as he flipped through his journal. 'I could have sworn he was in his room when I went out the front door.'

Currently John was just trying to find something on teleportation, or sixth senses. Just how did Dean do that?

The oldest Winchester sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. 'I'm just getting senile in my old age.' He told himself as he shut his book, tucking it under his arm and going back to his room to get some rest.

Dean was the first up at the crack of dawn, already sitting in the small living room and flipping through the channels they actually got on their tiny TV.

John could tell it was Saturday morning simply by his oldest son's attire. Boxers and a t-shirt. Yup, defiantly Saturday. Unlike most teens, Dean didn't sleep in, he was always up at the crack of dawn, even if he didn't have to be. John never got around to asking why.

Like most teenage boys- or so John thought anyway- Dean didn't bother getting dressed, not until noon at least.

"Dean, you do know you don't have to be up this early right?"

Dean just shrugged, flipping to some random cartoon, shrugging and dropping the remote next to him, laying out on his side to watch whatever was on.

John sighed closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose for a minute, "Dean, you make me wonder." He stated, shaking his head and shuffling off to the kitchen.

It was about four in the after noon now, and John was desperate to finally be able to sneak away without Dean teleporting or something into the passenger seat of the Impala.

He knew it was supposed to be the other way around, Dean was supposed to be the one trying to sneak away from John and John was sure Dean was sneaking out at some point more than likely when he was supposed to be watching Sammy, but guessed he was safe enough on his own and go out to party or do other things John preferred to think that Dean didn't do too often. The last thing they needed was Dean to be a teen parent, especially with what they do and all their constant traveling.

John slowly stalked around the very tiny apartment, he probably didn't take more than 20 minutes until he had located Dean. Door closed, Sam on couch, TV turned up just a bit to high.

Even though John really hated to think of what Dean was doing behind that closed door, he knew this was the easiest time to sneak away without Dean magically appearing.

The oldest Winchester knelt down next to Sam and whispered to him in a low voice, "Where's Dean?"

"He's taking a nap." Sam replied in the same low voice.

John nodded pushing himself back up and quietly walking to the door and grabbing his bags, slinging them over his shoulder, he waved goodbye to his youngest and slipped out as quietly as he could.

Dean was actually asleep and not doing other things this time. He was sprawled out on his tummy, right hand beneath his pillow holding tightly to the hilt of his knife. His head was turned to one side the blankets kicked off, his mouth was slightly open but he was yet to start drooling.

He woke up to the sound of the front door opening and closing. Dean pushed himself up onto his elbows taking a quick glance around the room before he slid off the bed, straightening his jeans and T-shirt before padding out of the shared room and glancing around with a frown.

"Sammy, where's Dad?" He asked, leaning a bit against the doorframe.

"He went out on a hunt." Sammy responded, turning away from his cartoon to look at his big brother.

"Goddamnit! Sam, why did you wake me up!" Dean asked, going over to the window, looking down just in time to see the Impala pulling away.

"Daddy told me not to." Sam whimpered, pushing himself back into the couch to avoid his brother's wrath.

Dean thumped his head against the glass, taking a deep breath before giving a soft chuckle, "I'm supposed to be the one sneaking out and behind Dad's back, not the other way around." He said with a shake of his head.

Sam tipped his head to one side and said in an innocent tone, "But you do sneak out behind Dad's back."

Dean responded with a guilty grin and a shrug of his shoulders, "Yeah, there's that."

What had kept him from hunting this time? That time John managed to sneak out while he was asleep.

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Tochi: Wow this is a bit… different from my other chapters, more John centric.

Don't get me wrong, I love John, he's just so confident in every thing he does when he's hunting, if he were my daddy, I'd give him a hug, but unfortunately, my dad's an asshat and Sammy agrees with me, he is an asshat.

Flap Jack: -snickers- asshat.

Tochi: Shut up Flap Jack

Flap Jack: No. Ok, you've read this far, so give us a review, alert the story if you haven't already and most importantly, join my evil Flap Jackian army!


	7. Allergies

Tochi: I know, I know, I've taken forever, but gimme a break, I've never finished a multi chaptered story in my life!

Flap Jack: She's pathetic… and has the attention span of a small rodent.

Disclaimer: Linc: We only own a box and this keyboard… the rest of the computer belongs to Dad ..;

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Richmond, Michigan, nice town. Had a but café and an arcade… it also had a werewolf.

Dean was sitting in the rented apartment feet kicked up on the coffee table and watching some soap opera. It was Saturday, which meant no school, and nothing to do for a while. They'd gotten there at the end of the lunar cycle, and they had to wait for the next one before they could find it and kill it.

Sammy was bouncing around the small apartment moaning with boredom, Dean just trying to ignore the 10 year old.

'_He's just on a sugar high'_ Dean had told himself several hours before, but Sammy was still bouncing around.

"I wanna go to the arcade!" He whined, scrambling up on the couch next to Dean, "Can we go to the arcade? Pleeeeeease?"

"No, Sammy, Dad told us to stay here." Dean replied, not looking away from the TV screen.

"But I wanna go!" He whined, attaching himself to Dean's arm.

"No Sam, now stop whining!" Dean snapped, yanking his arm away.

Sam sniffed a bit as Dean yelled at him and sat back on the couch, the very familiar 'I'm about to cry' look soaking into his features.

"Sam." Dean groaned looking over at him, "Cut that out… Sam… really… _stop_." Dean groaned, unable to look away from his brother. Dean hated this. Sam knew how to work his brother, just put on the 'I'm gonna cry' look and Dean would melt.

"Ok, ok, we'll go, just cut that out." Dean groaned, pushing himself to his feet.

Sammy's face instantly brightened and he stood up as well, "Yay!" He said happily, rushing off to the share room to get his shoes.

"Brat." Dean sighed, standing up and pulling his shoes on, grabbing his jacket , keys and wallet as he waited for his brother.

Sam soon bounded out, jacket an shoes on as he grabbed his brother's hand, opening the door and giving Dean barely enough time to close and lock the door before dragging him down the street and into the arcade.

Several of Dean's dollars later, Sam had already grown bored with the arcade and demanded a smoothie. After a cheery smoothie, Sam had grabbed the unfortunate Dean's hand and drug him outside, humming to himself. Dean sighed as Sam drug him farther away from their apartment and instead toward the pet store.

Once inside the pet store, Sam scurried off and Dean stood in the corner, rubbing his temples. Ok, so maybe he was just being a hyper little kid. Or maybe he was just trying to annoy Dean. Or maybe Dean was having a terrible nightmare and it would all end soon.

Nope, defiantly the first option. Sam soon bounded up with a puppy in his arms and the puppy look on his face. "Deeeeeeeaaaaaaaan." Sam whined, holding the little wiggling pup up for Dean to see.

"Can I keep him?" Sam pleaded giving Dean his puppy face look.

"No, Sam, you already spent all my money." Dean grumbled, looking down at the squirming fuzzball. Sure it was cute, but Dean was broke and Dad would kill them both if they brought a dog home.

Sam sniffled a bit and hugged the puppy before shoving it up in Dean's face, the pup licking his nose and Dean frowning.

Then Dean sniffed too. Dean stepped back a bit and sneezed, groaning a bit and wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

Sam blinked a few times then moved closer to Dean, "Please?"

"No, think I'm a-a- ACHOO! Ugh, allergic to it."

Sam pouted and turned around, going to put the puppy back. Dean rubbing at his somewhat watery eyes.

Sam sulked all the way back to the apartment, and Dean sniffled.

Dean was once again sitting on the couch when their father came home, still sniffling a bit, and Sam was still sulking in his room.

"Where's Sam?" John asked, glancing around.

"Pouting in his room." Dean shrugged, watching the small TV."

"Why's he pouting this time?"

"'Cause I said he couldn't have a puppy.. think I'm allergic to dogs." Dean mumbled, sniffing again.

John forgot all about the 'I said you can't leave the apartment' speech he was working up, and instead switched to, "Think you're allergic to dogs?"

"Yeah, Sam put the mutt up in my face and I haven't been able to breathe though my nose since."

"Dean?" John asked slowly.

"Yeah, Dad?" Dean asked, turning around and looking at him.

"You know you can't go on the hunt now, right?"

"What- why?" Dean asked, instantly on his feet.

"Because we're hunting a werewolf, and you're allergic to dogs."

Dean groaned and flopped back down, crossing his arms to pout now, "It's all Sam's fault."

Yet another on the list of things that have kept Dean from hunting, his allergy.

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Tochi: Yes I made the allergy up, and yes I know it's shorter than holy hell, but at least I updated… AND I FINISHED WRITING MY OTHER STORY! -dies of shock-

Flap Jack: Read, review, alert, Join my evil army.


	8. Too Young

Tochi: I'm trying to turn over a new 'update more quickly' leaf… though this'll stop once school starts x.x

Flap Jack: -points and laughs-

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John had gone on a lot of hunts and it had only been a little over a year. He moved his two sons around a lot. Dean was five and Sammy was almost two. Sam's first word had been 'Dean' and for the longest time, Sammy would just stand in his play pin, holding onto the side with his pudgy hands bouncing up and down yelling 'Dean! Dean! Dean! Dean!'

John had to admit, it was really cute to watch his infant son jump up and down in his little light blue footy pajamas yelling his brother's name. Dean had been there when Sam had taken his first steps, and Dean had fed Sam his first bit of solid food.

John swore if Dean was there when Sam learned how to ride a bike he was going to scream. John's remedy to that problem, though, was, he was never going to _buy_ Sam a bike. Sam couldn't ride something he didn't have.

Currently Sammy was jumping up and down in his play pen yelling "Deeeaaannn! Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaan! Want Dean!"

In Sammy speak that meant 'Would someone get me outta here and feed me?'

John pushed away from the small kitchen table and went into the little living room portion of the apartment and picked up his youngest son. Dean was currently rifling through the fridge looking for a snack for himself.

Dean was sitting at the table when John came back with Sam balanced on his hip, and went through the fridge himself, taking out the strained peas and sitting Sam down in his highchair, baby food on the little try as John went to get a baby spoon.

When he got back Sam was whimpering and trying to reach for something, whether it be Dean or the food, John wasn't sure.

Dean handed Sam one of his grapes and Sam smiled showing his new teeth before throwing the grape at Dean and giggling. Dean smiling and picking it up off the floor, setting it on the table.

Sam tried to reach for it, but John gently pushed Sam's shoulders back. John unscrewed the cap sitting in a chair and spooning out a small bit of the peas. He tried to get it in Sam's mouth but Sammy batted it away, the green goo hitting John square in the nose. And baby Sammy giggled again.

Several gobs of flying goo later, John shook his head, giving up on feeding him and putting the top back on the bottle. He stood up to put it back in the fridge and Sammy whimpered again. John looked down to see him wiggling in the chair, wanting down.

John hurried through putting the peas away and wiping his face off and put the almost hysterical Sam down on the floor.

Sam stood on unsteady legs before waddle running over to his brother, holding onto his leg and bouncing "Dean, Dean!" He said proudly, Dean smiling and lifting the baby onto his lap, Sam reaching forward and grabbing a grape in his pudgy hand and throwing it at his highchair.

John laughed and took Sam from his brother, Dean pouting a bit and Sam crying, "Nooo! Dean!"

"No Sammy, nap time." John corrected, going to Dean and Sam's shared room.

"Daddy when are you leaving for your hunt?" Dean asked, suddenly right behind John as he put Sam down in his crib.

John's head snapped around when he heard his son's unexpected voice then smiled softly. "Soon as your sitter gets here."

"Miss O'Leary?" Dean asked with a scrunched up nose.

"That's right."

"But she smells funny and makes me eat prunes and makes Sam stay in his play pin all the time."

"You two'll be fine."

Dean said nothing more on the subject of the sitter and instead looked up at John, "Whatcha hunting this time?"

"Poltergeist… I'll be back by tomorrow, promise."

Dean nodded and left the room. John turning on the baby monitor and leaving soon after.

Miss O'Leary arrived promptly as usual and took her usual seat in the rocker.

John told her that Sam was napping, and that's all she needed to know because knowing Dean, he was watching Sam sleep.

John rounded up his bags and went out to the Impala. He really wasn't expecting to see little Dean waiting by the car with a colander on his hand and his fake shot gun in his hand, but damn if it wasn't just priceless.

"Dean, what're you doing?" John asked with a smile.

"Ima go with you!" Dean reported brightly.

John smiled even wider and sat down his bag, kneeling in front of Dean. "Dean, you're too young to go a hunt yet… give it a little more time."

Dean hung his head in a pout, the colander almost falling off.

"I have an even more important mission for you, though." And Dean brightened instantly.

"You need to guard Sammy from smelly Miss O'Leary make sure her smell doesn't rub off on him." Dean grinned and ran back inside, John putting his things in the trunk.

The note left for him when he got back made him fall over laughing.

Dean was most troublesome and would not let me near Samuel what so ever. Dean would not bathe and refused to eat the snack I prepared for him. I regret to inform you that you will no longer be granted my service.

Another thing that did keep Dean form going on a hunt, though, he was just too young (But really cute)

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Tochi: YAY!

Flap Jack: -falls over twitching- The fluffiness! -Dies-

Read, Review, Alert, Join my evil army… -twitch- way to fluffy.


	9. Sam's Goddamn Puppy Eyes

Tochi: I'm sensing this is going to be short…

Flap Jack: THE SCHOOL!! –twitches-

Disclaimer: Linc: Flap Jack needs to go to therapy… we don't own anything anymore -.-

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Well. This had quite possibly been the worse day of Dean Winchester's life.

Just yesterday, Sam had made the worst suggestion Dean had ever heard of, but those goddamn puppy eyes made John agree.

Samuel Winchester, brother of Dean Winchester, and son of the legendary John Winchester, had suggested that they take a _break_ from hunting.

"Just for two weeks, Dad, please?" The youngest boy had asked, his puppy eyes going full blast at his father.

_Dean could see his father wince at the suggestion, and watched the man who killed evil sons-of-bitches on an almost weekly basis squirm beneath the puppy like gaze of his youngest son._

"_Fine, two weeks." He agreed, and both him and Dean died a little inside._

And things had gone from bad to worse after that.

They were between homes, and living out of hotels because it was summer, and summer, meant no school. At the time that they were forced on vacation by Sammy's goddamn puppy eyes, they were living in some crappy motel that the maids didn't even clean out if you stayed in there for more than four days at a time, but when Sam made the suggestion, John had upgraded.

They moved their crap to a hotel that didn't have chipped tiles in the bathroom, a toilet that worked correctly, and a fucking _indoor pool_. The best Dean had remembered before then was a motel six with an outdoor one that had leaves, a spider, and an old hairy dude in a speedo in it. Sam had been four at the time, and had started bawling, because of the spider or the old hairy guy, Dean wasn't sure.

Soon after the move to the better hotel ("_Just two weeks" John kept repeating to himself and Dean as they took the elevator up)_ Sam had wanted to go swimming. Fine. But he hadn't wanted to just go swimming, and leave Dean and John alone, oh no, he'd wanted John and Dean to come with him and spend family time together.

At that moment, Dean knew what it must have been like for death row inmates as they walked down the hall way to their death, except at the end of Dean's hall, was a huge pool.

Dean had never been a big fan of swimming not when he was three and John was teaching him by throwing him into the pool and telling him, 'sink or swim' and defiantly not when he was sixteen, and there were not girls around to stare at.

Dean had ended up sitting on the edge of the pool with his father, both twitching occasionally, but otherwise showing no sign of life. For the first time since Dean could remember. He was bored. Dean Winchester, was _BORED._ That never happened! They always had something to hunt, but now? Nothing!

For about ten minutes, he'd kept himself from going nuts by imagining he was hunting a kelpie and Sam was acting as bait. That lasted about as long as it took some fat chick to do a belly flop right where Dean imagined the kelpie to be just surfacing… the lady killed his imaginary kelpie, and Dean was bored again.

After swimming, Sam had slept. And slept. And slept. For three hours, Dean's twelve year old brother _slept_. Sam never slept during the day anymore! Not even when they were driving! Sure he used to, but then he used to get sick to, so yeah, no more of that.

Dean sat there and inconsistently watched Sam nap. He was inconsistent because he had to keep wiping drool off of his chin.

After Sam had awakened, he'd watched TV, and Dean had started twitching again. After TV, was food, and Dean couldn't even stomach it.

By the time Dean had gone to bed, curled up in the fetal position, he was beginning to contemplate if one could die of boredom.

Just as he started to slip from boredom into dreams of fat chicks, belly flops, drool, and kelpies, he'd added another page to his 'things that have kept me from hunting' notes.

'Sam's goddamn puppy eyes.'

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A/n: Tochi: So sorry it's been like… half a year since I updated, and it ended up being this short little disappointing dinker, but the school!!

Flap Jack: THE SCHOOL!!!!!! -runs into walls- THE SCHOOL!!!!!

Linc: Flap Jack has problems with the 'S' place…

Flap Jack: School bad for Flap Jack!!!!!! -chews at straight jacket-

Tochi: … ok, well, I'll totally understand if you don't review this time 'cause yeah, it's taken me so long to update -hugs anyone that's read this far- I STILL LOVE YOU MY ADORING FANS!!!

Flap Jack: -hits Tochi with chewed up straight jacket- They don't even like you anymore!


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